John’s been more receptive lately.  He’s been awfully personable these days.  I wonder if it has anything to do with the letter I delivered to him from that Dubois fellow.  Anyway, I’m just happy that he’s beginning to open his heart.  At first, I attested him ignorant of all matters aside from profit; but after some time, John is beginning to come around.  His behavior is even tolerable enough for me to engage him “freely” in conversation.  Although my suspicions have lightened, I must remember that his intent still lies in, what he considers, fair trade.  For now, I’ll head down to Wilmington Road and take a break where Aunt Peggy used to live.  Its always secluded in the clearing behind the shed.

I…

“may not confine my studies to the ‘paler shades,'”

but…

“I shall endeavor always to depict life as I have known it,”

or…

“if I wander from this path”

as…

“I think it ought to be.” (Chestnutt-Andrews, pg. 330)

Whoa, what just happened to me?  I parked the coach next to that shaded tree over there, sat down on this log, then….  I can’t remember what happened.  Its starting to come back to me.  I remember the comforting shade of this honeysuckle tree.  Soon after, I began feeling dizzy.   I now have dirt on my face and a weird swollen area on my left calf.  Two puncture wounds, centered in the site, ooze a clear fluid down to my ankle.  The horse is eerily disturbed.

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